"Come," said I, "off with that mask," and I knocked it clean off his face with the pistol, just as the moon emerged in her full whiteness.
'Twas a young man, well-formed, and of a handsome bearing, that stood before me, and I saw that his features were disfigured by a cynical smile. Yet there was in that expression, as I judged, something impulsive and full-hearted that took me. I contemplated him.
"You're no tobyman," said I. "A tobyman would think shame to be took as I took you just now."
For answer he whistled, and then, "Good my man, get forward with your job," said he. "I have cast and lost."
"Why," said I, lowering my barker, "I know 'twas along of a wager this was done, and so bungled."
He threw me a glance under the moon without offering to run. "How know you?" he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Rip me," said I, "when a gentleman of the road takes the road (save he be in liquor) 'tis for a serious purpose, and that's guineas. He walks with a proper gait; he's no come-lightly. But you—" I came to a pause.
"You're wrong," said he, "'twas no wager."
"Oh, well," said I "'tis a pity that so fit a youth should go woo the Triple Beam, and I find it in my heart to give you a chance. What say you? Your story for your life."